Twentyfour seven
by bimupp
Summary: The honorable Minister for Magic, Mrs Hermione Granger, has not received her cup of coffee in time. Her first undersecretary must must pay for this.Warnings: femmeslash, bdsmbloodplay but nothing graphic, severe caffeine abstinence


24/7

Disclaimer: I own nothing. They´re J.K Rowling´s characters. I´m just playing with them.

Rating: M

Warnings: Femmeslash, mentions of bdsm but nothing graphic, powertripping, caffeine

addiction. Bad use of the British language this is supposed to be written in and which is not

my mother tongue.

Pairing: Hermione Granger/Daphne Greengrass

Ms. Hermione Granger, Minister of Magic, Order of Merlin first class, fourth in a row winner of the "Witch Weekly" most striking pose award, etc. was sitting at her impressive mahogany desk, seething.

The pile of papers in front of her was as high as ever and every few minutes, more memos came flying in through the hole in the door.

Her peacock quill was firmly placed in her right hand. The inkwell was open, the parchment in place. Another efficient day of signing papers, hearing reports, meeting emissaries and giving orders was about to start.

The clock on the wall had already struck 08:01, so where in the name of Merlin's pink tutu was her coffee?

Daphne Greengrass, who had been first secretary to the Minister ever since she came into power eight years ago, knew better than this.

The first cup of coffee was most vital to the efficiency of the rest of the day. It needed to be brewed to perfection and served according to strict guidelines the very second Ms. Granger was ready to start her day at 08:00 am sharp. And hitherto it always had been.

Daphne knew her important pitch black 2,5 sugar cube duty and had never failed before.

The caffeine deprivation was beginning to make itself known with increasing force as the clock struck 08:05.

Daphne had better have a good explanation for this, Hermione thought. She started to drum on the floor with expensively leather-clad feet. The perfectly manicured nails joined in the music upon the desk. She stared at the clock again.

08:08.

Eight coffee-less minutes, eight ineffective minutes, eight minutes to pay for in blood. Minister Granger was not a morning person.

Footsteps echoed in the corridor outside the office.

She thought she could smell the magnificent aroma of an exclusive Brazilian brand, expertly brewed. An unimportant assistant with a coffee tray passed by the door, stopped shortly to say "Good morning, Minister" in a chirpy voice, and prodded on.

Ms. Granger merely nodded, cursing inwardly and sniffing the air desperately.

08:12.

She could, of course, venture out to the coffee machine in the secretaries' lounge herself, but that simply wouldn't be appropriate for the Minister of magic. Besides, such tasks were what Ms. Greengrass was for.

Or perhaps Hermione could conjure some coffee, but the taste just wouldn't be the same.

08:16.

Greengrass should be sacked, effective immediately. But training a new first secretary would be such a hassle, and how could she be sure that the new help would even get the taste right?

Greengrass had had to be severely punished twice before she'd finally learned the trick. She might still have the scars to prove it. Good times. The Minister sighed.

Could this be the reason Greengrass was dawdling? Did she miss the harsher learning aids of their younger days?

Greengrass, a.k.a Slave or Daphne, both terms were used when at home in their beautiful country cottage, had been testing her partner's patience lately.

Ink blotches on parchments forcing Hermione to use the razor. Bringing the wrong kind of biscuits had ensured a thorough and personal whipping.

"Raspberry, honestly! What was she thinking?"

But maybe she had been thinking.

This theory needed to be put to the test. Every time Greengrass was punished, she pledged and vowed never to fail her Mistress again, or face severe consequences. And she hadn't failed for a while.

And the last time, Ms. Granger thought, the last time….

Had the look of fear in Daphne's eyes that her Mistress had come to know and appreciate been tainted with common expectation?

If it had, Minister Granger wasn't sure how to tackle it. She needed the thrill and the feeling of complete control, but where was the thrill if the submission was willingly given, the punishment wanted?

Being the smartest witch of her age, Hermione was well aware that the submissive part in the kind of complex relationship she and Daphne shared, held the real power, but being Hermione, she was also bright enough to be able to fool herself that this was not the case.

With Hermione deep in thought, 08:23 went by unnoticed.

Footsteps started to echo in the corridors once more. Snapping out of her reverie, Ms. Granger recognized them as Daphne Greengrass's.

Shortly afterwards, she entered carrying a tray with a big and deliciously smelling coffee cup on it. As Daphne silently approached the desk with a downcast gaze, the Minister spoke in serene tones:

"You are inexcusably late, Ms. Greengrass; by almost half an hour. I cannot accentuate the seriousness of your actions enough. I have half a mind to expel you from this office."

Daphne gulped audibly, lifted her head, and stared at Hermione.

"However, the two of us have established a routine to deal with this kind of things, have we not?"

"Yes, Minister. We have," Daphne said, relaxing her shoulders.

"Your failure to live up to your duties requires a most severe punishment. I must use excessive force and nasty surprises. Lock the door and undress."

There was no mistaking it. As she went towards to door, Daphne smiled widely.

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End file.
